Who Cares?
by L.C. Techno
Summary: How would you feel, being constantly ignored? How could you live when others beat on you but you won't fight back? What ever happen to the merchant? &Because merchants are horribly underrated
1. Story of a Merchant

**Who Cares...**

_(or Story of a Merchant)_

I am a Merchant

Who knows, who cares

I sit by my corner

Selling my wares

* * *

I glance all around me

Hoping for a buy

I stand in the corner

As they all pass me by

* * *

Day and night, in my corner

Hoping against hope

That someone from the people

Would buy from my shop

* * *

In winter, I freeze

In summer I burn

I shiver and sneeze

Still, my heart continues to yearn

* * *

For a customer to buy

A student to learn

About my wares

Which I have discerned

* * *

My arms, they are aching

From waving my stuff

I've traveled my places

But all of my efforts seem not enough

* * *

Driven from my corner

By newbies galore

The vets are no better

I've been struck by them before

* * *

They either ignore me

Or charge me with crimes

That I stole their goods

But I never did nor ever would

* * *

I was pushed and beaten

By swords and Knives

More than once I've been threaten

They'll end my life

* * *

I stood it all

I care for my goods

Whilst I was tortured

I never understood

* * *

I only want them

To appreciate my wares

To give life to my hardship

I went through for them

* * *

I lie on the pavement

My hand starts to bleed

To my torment,

No one heeds

* * *

"No one buys my wares"

I think as I wrap

"No one knows or cares"

My hand which yields red sap

* * *

The newbies, who had taken my place

Have set up a stall

Their stuff selling at furious pace

The masses they've enthralled

* * *

The vets laugh at my misfortune

Others bow their heads

In shame or dishonor?

In things left unsaid

* * *

I cringed in horror

Too weak and in pain

As I sat in the dark corner

And it begins to rain

* * *

The worthless merchant has decided

I thought, No, it's not fine

I struggled in my corner

And looked one last time

* * *

A return ticket to Payon

A sohee doll I made myself

A statue of a rearing stallion

The books upon my shelf

* * *

A jewel of Angels' tears

A crumb of stellar dust

A lot of other objects

That I hold dear in my heart

* * *

I sat tired and broken

I set them on my selling cloth

My hands! My heart began to bled

As I tended each item tenderly

* * *

I am a Merchant

Selling my wares

No one knows

No one cares

* * *

In the following mornings

No one noticed

That the merchant

Wasn't there

But as he told you,

No one knew

Or cared

* * *

Kali ran the up the streets

But stopped at something odd

A cloth with some objects

Was laid like a shop

* * *

The knight ran to it

And cuddled the sohee doll

At the sight, some people took notice

Wondered why Merchie wasn't there

* * *

"I'd like to buy this Sohee."

Said the Knight with glee

But no answer did she hear

Except regretful silence in the air

* * *

T.T


	2. Kali's Reply

**Author's note:** While reading comparing Kali's poems to the Merchant's. In their styles, what do the poems tell of the personalities of each? Who do you think studied more? Which style do you favor?

Sorry for the barrage of questions but I really want to know what you (the reader) would think of Kali's poems.

And thank you, the 3 reviewers before: babygxpress, Chaotic Drive and wow. Truthfully speaking, I never expected the poem to get any reviews because that time hardly anyone was reviewing my stuff. Thanks!

* * *

**JUSTICE!**

At night I wonder

Why, you have done nothing wrong

Still the sohee cries

* * *

**Soul of Another**

Crowd spills the streets with deafening din

Everyone seems to ignore every other thing

Useless babble, careless talk

Is what I hear when I walk

* * *

They stare at my measured stride

That is until they look into my eyes

Some are shocked, others quite scared

To see such a haunting stare

* * *

Piercing pools of misery, fierce eyes of pain

Enduring hours of burning, hours and hours of rain

Created not by Nature, no, that would have been fine

But by one's own brother, one of mankind

* * *

Some look, ask with concern:

"What misery is lurking,

What happened, Lady Knight!"

I hung my head and in return:

"You are mistaken,

This is not my plight."

* * *

What they don't realize

It's not me they look

It's the soul of another

One which they took

* * *

Their guilt is what reflects in my eyes

It's their own fears that haunt them

They can't overlook like they did before

So when I ask, they tell me of events that have taken

* * *

The knight looks to the window, the sun has gone down and the night looms. An unbearable sense of grief comes over her. So she finally knew what had taken place. But so many pieces are still missing. Unable to cry properly, she attempts to relieve her feelings another way. Taking a quill and parchment, she slips to streets and into night. There commotion is still ongoing (cities never really sleep) but all is quiet as she steps on a dark corner and begin to narrate her works.

* * *

**I do**

_(or Kali's Response)_

The day has parted, the night has ruled

In the corner where you last stood

here I am before you

* * *

Where once a merchant was selling

is now a silence compelling

Overwhelmed with the inhabitants' rue

* * *

All you wanted is to share

The works of your hand

Instead, now, you are gone.

* * *

I present you the faces

Of a dozens of jobs and races

Do they deny the deed done?

* * *

Faces of scorn, indifference and neglect

Faces of ignorance, remorse and intellect

Somehow lay the blame on thee

* * *

Still all the blame they shan't claim

A part of it is yours the same

I see both sides, my dear Merchie.

* * *

You stood it all but not for yourself

You spoke out but not for help

Merchie, you did it for your goods...

* * *

But those who run away

Will live to see another day

You should have run when you could

* * *

You would've found comfort in fellow knights, mages and thieves

Instead of starvation in the streets

And stronger you would have become

* * *

Any obstacles able to overcome

How did your suffering transfer to my eyes?

How was I able to sort out the lies?

* * *

Because of love you gave and blood you had shed

The sohee doll which I love

Became a living of memory of your blood

Each drop falling on her head

* * *

And now she cries for Justice

And wishes for her master peace

But nothing more could she tell

* * *

No one but I, who wanted to buy

Could hear her mournful cry

So unto me the task fell

(To grant someone's wish, to have your heart at ease)

* * *

You are a Merchant

Selling your wares

You asked who knows

And who cares

* * *

I am Kali the Knight

With a story to share

Now everybody knows

And somebody cares

* * *

Kali looked up from the parchment she had been reading. The night crowd who was almost as noisy as the day crowd was silent. Crickets chirped, making the silence more prominent. Then somebody began to clap, followed by more until everyone was clapping and cheering. There were murmurs of approval and delight.

"She shouldn't be a Knight, she should be a Bard!"

"Idiot! There is no such thing as a female bard!"

"True. But she tells a good story. Almost had me there."

"You think what she was telling was true?" asked a feminine voice.

"Of course not! What kind of person would treat another like that! Though that was a lovely piece of rhymin'."

"Miss Kali!" somebody shouted. "I own a printing press and I was hoping you'd let me buy the rights to print your poems!"

But Kali already left her stand. She rolled up the parchment and stuffed it in her pouch. As she made her way through the crowd, she took out the sohee doll and smiled at it apologetically. No matter how hard one tries, sometimes, words are wasted.

* * *

In case you want to know, the first poem is a haiku. It would make more sense if you say the title at the end of the poem. The second is like a ballad but rhymes like a couplet. The last poem (and the real poem of Kali) is my first attempt at tercets—a poem composed of three lines per stanza and a certain rhyming pattern. Aab—aab. Kali's poems are more literal unlike the merchant's which I intentionally wrote to work on two levels. Still while working on this I came to notice that it, too, could be interpreted figuratively.

Readers, have you ever wondered what _really_ happened to the merchant? I mean, we all know one morning he was gone, but did someone kill him? Did he kill himself? Or did he ran away and become a successful blacksmith/alchemist? (Yeah, the last option doesn't make any sense but I like to keep you guys guessing:)

_L.C. Techno_


	3. Narrative Verse

This won't be like most contemporay poems by teens like me. It won't be me waxing poetic about _my_ own feelings or about _me_. No, though this one of my most personal works to date. This, my friends, is a narrative poem. It's more like a throw back to the time when people had poems for story-telling. But in free verse. I am still weak, I can not make a perfect metered poem. But I will continue to try.

I personally think nothing will top the first poem. It was a poem of passion and written with emotions that could never be recreated...but I hope you'd like this anyway. Final poem begin!

A _dedication_: For every writer who shed a tear for their own works but most especially...

_For **Zhang Kai**,_

_Who wanted the know merchant's fate most of all  
And waited so long to get it._

* * *

**Did you come here looking  
****for some flowery, tale?  
****Well, sorry, buddy, this is not.  
****It's just some merchant that time forgot  
****And the rest of his sorry fate,  
****How he went and how he gone…  
****And if you should think it is poorly done  
****Sorry, fella, it's all I got…**

**Let's begin...

* * *

**

_Many will fall, many will try  
__Many will turn back with or out a sigh  
__But the few that do rise back…  
__Shall be remembered for eternity_

_-_

Cold shackled streets of Prontera  
Mist dragons blow their breath  
And no other signs can be taken  
Do tell of another's death

In this night when the moon turns red  
When the darkest nights do reflect  
The darkest deeds that are feared  
Are brought to life and affect

Seeming innocent lives…

And in the star-crossed stars of Prontera  
Where the downtrodden make their homestead  
The single man leftawake stood waiting  
Breathing, for his fate to be decided

For tonight was the night—

When violet blurs went stalking,  
They take their work not as a sin  
But a necessary undertaking  
By the betterer men of men

The time has come to take heart!  
Take all the meanings possible  
Be it real or metaphysical  
The truth is not all laudable

"We know what's best for you."  
Sins got the strikes as the talkers chanted,  
"We know what's best for you…"  
So the talkers say but they thought of what they wanted

The assassins struck fast  
They could not strike slow  
To the employers they must present  
A most efficient show

So talkers, chattering in drones  
Gathered closer round the merchant  
Buzzed with grave, self righteous tones  
Nodded much in agreement

**The world is much better,  
The merchant was gone.**

_Many will fall, many will try  
__Many will turn back without a sigh_

Like the fading, light-filled day  
Like the sun the merchant will never see  
Strength, mind and body, drain from him  
Frustrated, unable to reach mastery

_But the few that do rise back…  
__Shall be remembered for eternity_

Chalk up one for the talkers!  
The vultures who crowed  
They did not see the merchant rising  
His head bloody but unbowed!

A handle on the handle  
A foot on the floor  
Came shout the merchant  
Who thought was no more

Renewed vigor, rushing heat  
The true battle has just began  
Flashing fire,dangerous light  
He found the moon but lost the sun

He slashed one,  
Dove two,  
The rain poured on hard…  
He sliced three,  
But got four…

And the rain splashed against Pron's clock  
Beating each minute, second, hour  
The storm raged on but time stood still  
At the merchant's show and valor…

Or massacre…

The takers watched frightfully—"What, What!"  
And felt their hearts painfully throb  
"Get him, sins, get him now!  
Go on, aim true, finish the job!"

The lone sin left soon stepped up  
Scoffed by the lessers' demise  
Weak were they, they did not aim true  
Couldn't they have finished this merchant's pathetic lies?

"Go on," turned the sin to the mob  
"Take the bodies and run."  
Leering at his attempts to rise  
"Only one would be left standing before the night is done!"

Rain lessened, slowed and stopped.  
Wind ascended and parted the clouds  
She whistled gaily for them follow suit  
The talkers did gladly, the night was cold  
Tarry any longer and the tale might be told  
And Luna's light befell them all  
The rising merchant and dispersing crowds

_Many will fall, many will try  
__Many will turn back with a sigh  
__But the few that do rise back…  
__Shall be remembered for eternity_

A thorny assassin was his foe  
With katars, like tongues, so sharp  
The violet blur deflected his rampant blows  
Aimed for his throat, lusted for the heart

And the Sin did throw him a malicious gleam  
So, long drawn battle won't take them far  
As he circled the merchant warily  
He licked his tongue-sharp katar

"Come, little merchant, think you're so great?  
Nothing but little foibles did you make."  
Under the Luna's cruel smile, the assassin did smirk  
"Come, little merchant, your life let me take!"

He pointed a bloody katar to a far-off star  
Letting moonshine in  
The merchant's gone holding, just real axe  
And listened to the assassin's prissy whims

No reply but to stand there  
And lay a soaked hand to his chest  
Where his beloved doll made a homesnug lair  
And listened to his heartbeat in his breast

"Come, little merchant, let's end this game!  
Come on, you pretentious faker!"  
He started, let bloodlust reigned!  
"You little monster, come meet your Maker!"

The merchant merely took up the axe  
And lifted his rain-slicked head  
Amidst the wounds and sinuous blood  
He spat and said:

"You first."

_Many will fall, many will try  
__Many will turn back with or out a sigh  
__But the few that do rise back…  
__Shall be remembered for eternity_

Steel flashed in the wayward streets,  
Life freely flowed with each strike and blow  
But when all's said and done  
Only one was left to stand…

…and fall.

_**Many will fall, **_

_**many will die…** _

As he fell dying, she tumbled out  
The little darling from the merchant's heart  
And all he did before his last breath, caressed  
Her little head, and from what bled dropped on her head

_**But I will remember you eternally…**_

Come that morning, nothing was there  
The dark, dark streets were left bare then  
No reminder of the night,  
no evidence remained  
Except for tidied up bundle, forgotten

* * *

**You all know the rest of story  
****There's little else to say  
****Did the assassin die? Maybe.  
****The merchant? Some priest whisked him away.**

**(Priests are like that, you know.  
****In fact, I was the priest himself.  
****Hey? Clamoring details, I see  
****Well, there's one little thing left.**

**One little incident to tell  
****So I guess I might as well.)**

**The merchant left his bundle tied  
****Oh so neatly and the sohee doll certainly fell  
****From the merchant's chest before he died  
****  
Come that morning, nothing was there  
****And the bundle was laid out like it was for sell!  
****And the sohee doll was out front, eyes haunting stare  
****  
The merchant was gone, of it the people didn't learn  
****But at night, they swear that something wails  
****Like a young woman crying, waiting for someone to return.**

**Sigh Well, well, dear people,  
****I gave it my best shot  
****If you think it purely stunk  
****Sorry then, it's all I've got.

* * *

**

Father Matthew Bunemoir sipped from the hot cup he was holding. He took out right hand and flexed it. Man, was he tired! He set his shoes on the table, careful not to touch the manuscript. He looked out to the window. Dreary and depressing…just like when the merchant died. He shrugged. A loss isn't entirely a loss. Not if it serves the beginning of something else… Something better, something more wonderful.

Matthew sipped some more. And tonight was a mighty fine night for kissing.

* * *

_So the knight stood waiting  
There in the pouring rain  
Even if her heart was breaking  
And hopes were in vain_

_And time made sure she weakened  
Like a rogue crashing her armor  
Left her vulnerable and stricken  
To loneliness she will endure_

_Thought she found her heart's calling  
But back he never came  
And may tears have fallen  
In time with the rain's refrain_

_One thought kept her reason  
One mission to keep from getting worse  
She'll finally ask permission  
For the sohee to be finally hers_

_And so the knight waited  
Waited for his return  
No had heart (or guts) to tell, "Wasted,  
No fate of the merchant could be learned."_

_But one fella came traversing  
During one very heavy storm  
And would set Kali's heart breaking  
There would be no merchant's return_

_Grow tired did she, so much time passed  
And she fell upon the strangers strong hands  
And at the hope for life, pleadingly asked  
"What has happened?"_

_To which he plainly answered  
"The merchant had died."  
The knight broke down. Kali feared.  
Kali cried._

_And to her greatest surprise  
The smith cried with her.  
'I know now where my heart lies,  
It's with you and only you, forever.'_

_The mastersmith pressed his lips on the knight's  
And kissed her  
It felt sweet, it felt strong, it felt…right  
Love…a papery summer for every harsh winter_

_**Epilogue**_

A long road did those two take  
Before they realized their union  
One they could never break

They fell at first sight  
The image they thought they knew  
They exchanged blows, laughter and wit  
And the knight fell in love with the mastersmith

Not just the merchant she thought she knew

The mastersmith did realized  
That she more than just a lady who just cries  
But a woman of temperament and constancy  
Of kindness, emotion and marked destiny

Not just the swordie he thought he knew

_**Ah, if you think the story just ends there  
**_**_Tut, tut, au contraire!  
_**_**But I do believe you're tired of this rhyming fare.  
**__**So there…**_

_**The End  
**_(or is it?)

* * *

So ends the first thing I finally finished. Hmmm… Ignore the epilogue if you will, that was just part of the story of the Cathedral I was thinking of. Yes, I know, not all are perfect rhymes. It's not a masterpiece but I think it's a pretty good for someone my level. 

There will be one more chapter: An exposition of the poems which will answer questions like:The merchant is a true character butat the same time he serves as a symbol. Ofwhat?(A nice drawing for the person who gets the meaning. And props for the sharp eyes that catches the two hidden words in this poem. :D Nah. Not expecting anyone to answer that challenge) Or is the 'mastersmith' truly the merchant? If so, why did he say the merchant was dead?

Thank you, Ate Kalikasan. (You're the knight, hope you won't mind. :) Your first review still gives me the shivers. If you haven't given me that, I might've ended up truly 'dead' like the merchant. And Zhang Kai, sorry about not answering your e-mail, I only found about it now. So consider this my response. And consider this poems as a birthday gift or very early Christmas gift, if your birthday's past already or a just a plain gift if you don't celebrate Christmas. (Here in the Philippines, we're hyper early.) I wouldn't have continued if you and other people didn't want to (like Annika. Yo!) But I've just got to ask…

You said that you had a similar experience. How? I certainly hope you weren't beat up like my poor merchant. But if you were, I'm sure you'll turn about and become a mastersmith. Hope you get that. Thanks and till next time…why can't Clifford be like Kazeno :P


End file.
